Her reaction to a possible relationship between Darrow and Pinch was so far out of character, it jarred me. That, coupled with my father’s insistence that I look for someone named Matthew, was the reason I was out walking the estate that now, at least temporarily, was mine.
I’d every intention of reworking the terms of what would become my trust. I’d met with a solicitor five years ago when I couldn’t bear the notion of leaving SIS.
Now, my desire to amend the estate’s ownership had little to do with my work. More, it was the idea that there was a slim chance Gunner was right, and Kazmir was my child. If that was true, the life I would build with Losha might be very different than the one I’d lived as a child. Would she want to live on the English countryside in a home that was nothing like anything she’d ever known? It would be daunting for just about everyone, but especially her. She’d made her worry known that she’d never fit into my world, and while I didn’t agree, I wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do.
I closed my eyes, tamping down the dream of us spending our lives together, raising Kazmir. If it turned out my initial belief that Losha was involved with another man proved correct, the pain would be even more unbearable if I allowed myself to hope otherwise.
I approached the cottage where Wellie had lived since before I was born, and knocked on the door.
“Thornton,” Wellie said, motioning for me to come in. “I am so sorry to hear of the duke’s passing.”
“Thank you, Wellie.”
“Come in and tell me what brings you to my cottage.”
I sat where Wellie pointed.
“Cup of tea?”
“Something a bit stronger if you have it.”
The bottle Wellie set on the table in front of me was unmarked, but I could guess at its contents.
The old man sat and poured two glasses. “To our dear departed, that the devil mightn’t hear of his death till he’s safe inside the walls of heaven.”
I downed the shot all at once, warmed by its potency. “Is this of your making?” I asked.
Wellie nodded. “’Twas your father’s favorite.”
“I want to talk to you about the last thing my father said to me before he died.”
Wellie raised a brow.
“He mentioned the name Matthew and told me to find him.”
Wellie’s eyes hooded. “What else did he say?”
“To find him before it’s too late. Do you know who Matthew is, Wellie?”
The man shook his head. “I cannot say.”
I poured another shot and downed it. “You forget what I do for a living, my friend. You cannot say or you won’t say, is entirely different than not knowing.”
“It isn’t my story to tell, Thornton,” he said before walking out the door of the cottage.
Within a number of minutes, the door reopened; Pinch and Wilder came inside.
“Where’s my father?”
“He left.”
Pinch raised a brow like his father had.
“I told him that my father mentioned someone named Matthew and asked me to find him. Any idea who that is?”
Pinch shook his head.
“Your father knows something that he isn’t willing to talk about.”
“What did he say?”
“That it wasn’t his story to tell.”
This time Pinch nodded.
I looked at Wilder, whose eyes told me that he too believed both Pinch and Wellie knew more than they were willing to say.
Before I left, I picked up the unmarked bottle of booze and took it back to the abbey with me.
16
Losha
“Happy New Year,” said Zary, coming in the front door. “I hope you don’t mind me doing that. I guess I shouldn’t just use your code to walk into your house.”
I smiled. “Happy New Year to you as well. As far as you walking in, if there is a time that I’m concerned with my privacy, I’ll let you know.”
“You could always just throw the latch,” said Gunner, coming in behind Zary. “She won’t get past that.”
I looked to where Gunner was pointing, and saw that there were two latches at the top and bottom of the door, which would keep an intruder out even if they did have the code to the keypad. I doubted I’d ever have a need to use either, but was glad he’d shown them to me.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “But Zary, as she so often reminds me, is my closest friend, and I’ll remind you both, this is not my house.”
“It is while you’re staying here,” responded Gunner.
I smiled again. “You really are too kind to me.”
Zary put her arms around Gunner’s waist.
“What would you like to do today?” he asked.
“I was thinking Kazmir might like to see the elephant seals,” said Zary.
“Elephant seals?”
“There’s a rookery a few miles north of here, near the Piedras Blancas lighthouse.”
Kazmir giggled and pointed and tried to squirm out of my arms as we stood near the fence that overlooked the beach where more than one hundred elephant seals bathed in the sunlight.
I laughed. “They’re so loud.”
“Is the baby warm enough?” Gunner asked.
His cheeks were pink, but I doubted Kazmir was cold. “It’s far colder in Lapland,” I told him.
“Is that where you were?”
“Part of the time.”
I looked past Gunner and saw a dark-colored car entering the parking lot. Something about it raised my hackles. “I’m getting a little chilly, though,” I said, not wanting to elevate undue suspicion, but also anxious to leave as soon as possible.
We weren’t parked too far away, but even with the short walk, it would’ve been enough time for whomever was in the car to get out. And they hadn’t.
“Everything okay?” Zary asked as I buckled Kazmir into the car seat.
I nodded and glanced over at the car. Zary followed my line of sight and nodded as well.
I put Kazmir down for a nap, hoping he woke early enough that he wouldn’t fight going to sleep later tonight, and went out to the kitchen, but wasn’t hungry enough to bother making anything. I heard my phone’s vibrations and looked around but couldn’t remember where I’d put it. I finally found it on the dresser in the bedroom, but not quickly enough. I checked the log and saw I’d missed a call from Shiver.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I rang him back.
“Losha,” he said, answering before the phone finished its first ring. “I so needed to hear your voice.”
Shiver sounded drunk, a state I hadn’t seen him in very often, but under the circumstances, he was certainly entitled to be.
“How are you?” I asked. “How is your father?”
“He died, Losha. Last night, while I slept, he died.”
“I’m sorry, Shiver.”
“I fell asleep and he died.”
I wasn’t sure what to say or why Shiver was so upset that his father had passed while he slept.
“I’m such a bloody bastard.”
“Shiver, I’m sure you were very tired.”
“I rested my head on his bedside and fell asleep. He might as well have been alone for all the good my being there did.”
I took a deep breath; I was beginning to understand. “He knew you were with him. I’m sure it brought him great comfort.”
“I need you, Losha. Why wouldn’t you come with me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Would you have?”
God, I hated to upset him further when he was drunk, but I couldn’t pile on another lie. “No, I wouldn’t have.”
“I love you, Losha. I love you so much, and I know that I’ve just met him for the first time, but I love Kazmir too. Let me take care of you. Whether he’s my child or not. Let me love you both. Do you love me, Losha? Even a little?”
I gasped and closed my eyes. Would he even remember this conversation? Would he remember saying he
loved Kazmir—his son? Was this the right time to tell him the baby was his? If he were in front of me, I’d throw my arms around him and tell him I loved him too. How could I not when he’d just asked me to let him love us both? But what if he didn’t remember this conversation tomorrow? I couldn’t risk it. Instead, I repeated the words I’d said to him before.
“With all my heart, Shiver,” I whispered, not sure I wanted him to hear, but powerless not to answer when he sounded in such pain.
“That’s what you said about Kazmir’s father. How can you love two men with all your heart?”
“I can’t.”
“Oh, God,” he cried. “I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but is he mine, Losha?”
My eyes filled with tears as I cursed myself for calling him back. This couldn’t be the way I told him Kazmir was his. “I have to go, Shiver. If you remember this conversation, call me back tomorrow.”
When I disconnected the call, I blocked his number. Tomorrow, once Shiver had a chance to sober up, I’d unblock it.
17
Shiver
I rolled over and shrouded my eyes from the light coming in the bedroom window.
What in God’s name had I done last night? I peered at the night table with one eye and saw the empty bottle of Wellie’s brandy. Jesus, I’d drunk the whole thing.
My mouth felt as though it was filled with cotton balls, my head throbbed, and my body felt too heavy to even sit up. I closed one eye, opened the other, and looked down at what I was wearing. For the second time in as many weeks, I’d fallen asleep without removing my shoes. What the hell was wrong with me?
I groaned when the throbbing in my head intensified, and thought of Losha, like I always did. Whether it brought me intense pain or immeasurable pleasure, I couldn’t stop her image from appearing at the forefront of my mind. The image of her had changed, though. Now, instead of just Losha, the picture that first came to me was of her, sitting in front of me, the baby nursing at her breast. I still could not imagine a more beautiful sight.
When I reached for the phone to check the time, my finger brushed the call log button by mistake.
“What’s this?” I muttered to myself. There was an unanswered call from me to Losha at one in the morning, followed by a call back from her that had lasted almost ten minutes.
I had no recollection of it whatsoever. What the hell had I said to her?
The days that followed my drunken night were filled with people coming and going for the duke’s visitation, wake, and burial on the grounds of Whittaker Abbey. I woke as exhausted as I went to bed each night. My mother’s mood hadn’t changed, but like all well-bred English women, she hid it well in the face of visitors.
Pinch appeared to be keeping his distance from Darrow. I had no idea if that was out of a sense of propriety or if the duchess had said something to one or both of them.
And Wellie? He kept his distance from her as well.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I stepped out of the room where the duchess was conversing with visitors, and into the main hall.
“Hello, sir,” I answered when I saw it was Rivet calling.
“Shiv, I was so sorry to hear of the duke’s passing. I’m on holiday and have been out of touch, but that’s no excuse.”
“Please don’t apologize. I appreciate your call, Riv.”
“That isn’t my only reason for getting in touch with you. When I called Patsy to check in, she told me about your father. She also told me that there was a high alert issued for K19’s Dutch Miller.”
Dutch Miller? How long was it since I’d last seen him with Mantis and Alegria? A handful of days? What the hell had happened? “I’m sorry, I didn’t know either.”
“I figured as much. However, I’d like you to pass something on to Doc Butler if you would.”
“Of course.”
“I’m in Kaiserslautern, Germany, on holiday as I said, and I strongly believe I spotted him last evening.”
“You saw Dutch in Germany?”
“Again, I was unaware of the alert at the time, and now I feel as though I’ve been derelict in my report.”
“You couldn’t know what you didn’t know, Riv.”
“As it was, I suppose you’re right, but please do pass the word on to Doc or whomever you happen to speak with.”
“Have you contacted him?”
“I have but haven’t yet heard back.”
“I’ll see if I can reach him.”
“Much appreciated, Shiver. Again, I’m sorry to hear of your father’s passing. I regret that I won’t be there for the services.”
I ended the call and immediately called Doc to pass word on about Dutch. Doc offered condolences from Merrigan and himself.
“What’s going on?” I asked, thinking better of it after it was too late.
“Dutch went undercover, but we lost track of him. Now that we have some idea of his twenty, we’ll send a team in.”
I didn’t ask anything more. I knew enough just by Doc’s tone to suggest that whatever Dutch was in the middle of, it was imperative Doc act on it immediately.
18
Losha
On the seventh day after Shiver’s call, it dawned on me that I’d never unblocked his number. Initially, I’d only wanted to avoid him calling back while still drunk. I’d fully intended to unblock the number the next day, but completely forgot.
Even if he had called, now I’d never know it unless he’d left a message. Disappointed when there wasn’t one, I wondered if I should call him. How much of our conversation did he even remember, given how drunk he was?
I startled when I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, instead of Zary, Gunner stood on the other side.
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m leaving in a little over an hour.”
“I see. Is there anything I can do?”
“I’d like Zary to stay over here while I’m gone. I’d say you should stay in our side of the duplex, but it would be harder to move all of Kazmir’s things. Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks, Orina. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I know better than to ask, but is it bad?”
“A couple members of our crew have gotten themselves in pretty deep water. I wouldn’t go otherwise.”
I nodded, understanding everything he didn’t say. It wasn’t just deep water; they had to be drowning.
“I wanted to ask you first before I talked to Zary about staying here.”
“Tell her it’s to keep me company.”
Gunner smiled. “Thanks. That was my plan.”
For a moment, I wondered if I should tell Gunner about my unease earlier in the week when we went to see the elephant seals, but decided against it. Zary had likely already mentioned it, and if members of their team were in trouble, he didn’t need another worry on his shoulders.
Within a half hour, Zary walked through the front door, looking as though she’d been crying.
“What’s happened?” I gasped.
She waved her hand in front of her face. “I almost don’t recognize myself sometimes. I get so emotional. Ava said it’s the pregnancy hormones.”
I remembered being emotional when I was pregnant too, but I hadn’t attributed it to hormones. Instead, I’d been running for my life and that of my son at the time, with absolutely no one to turn to, certainly not my baby’s father or a half sister.
“I’m sorry,” Zary apologized. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I do that a lot.”
“You didn’t, and you don’t,” I lied, trying to shrug off the feeling of envy that crept in so often. “Come here and sit with me.” I motioned toward the sofa.
Zary sat and folded her arms.
“I’m not angry with you; it’s just that there are times that I feel very alone in the world.”
“You have me.”
“I do. And you have Gunner, your mother, your sisters…”
“I can’t apo
logize for that, Losha.”
“I’m not suggesting you should. In fact, if there is anyone I’m angry with, it’s myself. I don’t begrudge you any happiness, Zary. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Have you heard from Shiver?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t told Zary about his drunken phone call and didn’t plan to now. “Something’s just occurred to me,” I said instead. “Where’s your mother now?”
“She’s with Madeline, Gunner’s mother. They’re planning the wedding.”
“Your wedding?”
Zary nodded. “Thankfully, yes. I’m completely overwhelmed with my life as it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just because I seem happy doesn’t mean that I don’t have anxiety, Losha. It isn’t easy to go from having no one, as you said, to finding out my mother, who I believed died when I was a child, is still alive, or that I have half sisters. Gunner has been great about letting me take things at a pace I’m comfortable with. In fact, that’s one of the reasons he suggested we come here.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“The truth is, the reason I’m truly happy is because you’re here. And Gunner, of course. With you, I don’t have to pretend that I have the slightest clue about being a mother or a daughter or even a sister. I can relax and just be myself, and no one is going to judge me for not knowing how to make scrambled eggs.”
“Wow.”
Zary huffed. “What?”
“Now I really feel like a mudak.”
Zary laughed. “You should feel better.”
Strangely, I did. Knowing Zary hadn’t just woken up to a perfect life, made me feel less sorry for myself, although not so much less of a zhopa about it.
“Do you think Kazmir would be up for a walk in town later?”
“I’m sure he’d be up for a ride in the pram. Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask—did you mention what happened the other day to Gunner?”
The Duke and the Assassin (The Royal Agents of MI6 Book 1) Page 8